In a Night
by LostinOblivion
Summary: It was their anniversary, a celebration, a nice dinner, but then it happened and changed everything in one night.
1. Chapter 1

"It is way too damn cold for September in LA," Emily commented to Cheryl as they walked off the elevator. They'd run into each other in the parking garage, and cursed to cold together riding up in the elevator. It wasn't freezing, but the mercury barely hitting sixty wasn't normal for an LA September. Of course, it was late September, but still.

"Tell me about it. How can we go from heat waves in late August to this in barely a month?" Cheryl shook her head, as she picked her way through the cubicles. She stopped at Matt and Emily's, and nudged her friend and coworker, who hadn't yet noticed.

Emily looked up startled, she'd been fishing for something in her bag. The first thing she noticed was that Matt wasn't there, but then she saw the delicate white vase filled with red roses. She struggled to hide a smile. Matt had actually remembered their anniversary. One year ago today, they'd discussed ninjas, and he'd taken her for beer and fajitas. Of course, it probably helped that they'd planned a date for tonight. Biting her lip, Emily dropped her stuff, and reached for the card.

_Best year of my life. I love you. _

Short, simple, and straight-forward, that was definitely Matt's style. It was even in his handwriting, which means he'd actually walked into a store and bought the flowers, not ordered them by the phone or internet.

"No birthdays today…anniversary?" Cheryl asked, amused at the grin Emily was trying real hard to keep off her face.

"Yeah, a year today." Emily played with the card, still trying not to smile as much as she wanted to right then, and risk looking completely dopey or worse, lovesick.

"Really? Wow. A whole year, and he actually remembered the day? That's impressive for Matt." That was impressive for most guys, but especially for Matt.

"Thanks for the confidence, Cheryl." Matt shot her a half-serious scowl, joining them.

"Anytime." She shot him a grin, and left the couple alone.

"I love you too," Emily whispered moving closer to him. Matt decided Cheryl would forgive them for PDA in the office once, and breached the gap between them. He pressed his lips softly against hers in the sweetest of kisses.

Then the CNU erupted in wolf whistles and catcalls, and the two jumped apart like they'd been burned. Emily was already starting to color slightly.

"Oh hush, all of you," Lia scolded, rolling her eyes. It was mostly HRT making all the noise, and embarrassing their friends.

"So, what are the roses for, Flannery?" Frank called, not ready to let up yet.

"Anniversary," he mumbled. Why did he choose work to give her flowers? Oh yeah, that's right, he didn't want to wait. Sappy dumbass.

"Really? So, then it's been about a year now, hasn't it?" Frank was partially amused, but genuinely impressed.

"Yep, when was the last time you were with a woman that long, Frank?" Emily asked, teasing him back. Frank grinned.

"College, and damn proud of it." Cheryl popped out of her office, and looked around at them all standing, no one working. She wasn't surprised, she'd heard the commotion.

"Why isn't anybody working?"

"We were just congratulating Flannery and Lehman on a year."

"Well, then congratulate them, and get to work everyone. I know you all have plenty to do." She was smiling as she commanded them though, they knew she didn't mind them not working every second of the day.

"You heard the woman, let's congratulate them. God knows they've earned it after a year." Frank grinned and started a round of clapping. It was both a nice thing to do, and would embarrass the hell out of them.

* * *

Emily was feeling nervous as she slid her earrings through the teeny holes in her ears. She was in the ladies room in the CNU, getting ready for her date with Matt. Knowing they might get called in, they both agreed to bring their date clothes to work with them. Sure enough, they'd gotten called in early in the afternoon. It was a domestic disturbance, a blissfully quick one, so far as negotiations go. They still had thirty minutes to get to the restaurant, which was about a twenty-minute drive away.

When was the last time she'd been with a guy for a whole year, and felt no animosity toward him? That's always how it seemed to go for her. If they made it passed six months, which was rare enough, it always fell apart before, or shortly after the one-year mark. Either she wanted out by then, or he'd had enough, sometimes both. It was never pleasant by then, and it never ended well, someone was always hurt, and someone else was usually so fed up they didn't care.

She had a problem with feeling smothered, with them wanting too much of her. And, she had no patience for soothing bruised egos. So she was higher ranked in her job than they were in theirs—learn to deal with it. Most guys had a problem with her job, that she carried a gun, that it wasn't a woman's job. Or they thought she was distant, or too independent, that she wasn't around enough, or didn't open up enough.

But, there she was getting ready to celebrate a year with Matt, and she found herself still in love with him. He didn't push her too fast, or try to smother or control her. They shared a job and rank, so he never judged her on that, and he never got insecure. He liked that she was an equal, to Matt that was sexy. But, at the same time, he still treated her special, like she was someone very important to him. And, she tried her best to show him, that he was very important to her too.

What was really making her nervous though, was the idea in her head, that a year with him wasn't enough, she wanted more than that. She wanted another year to start.

"Hey, how's it going?" Lia pushed the door open, and stood watching her nervous friend.

"I haven't been this nervous on a date, since, oh god, I don't even know." Emily rested her hand on her abdomen, trying to calm herself.

"I know you have this paranoia about the one-year mark, but Matt's different. He loves you." Lia stepped closer to her, squeezing her friend's hand.

"It wouldn't be the first time I've thought this one was different, and been wrong."

"Emily, you need to relax, and stop obsessing about this. You aren't marrying him tonight, it's just a dinner," Lia instructed. Emily nodded, still nervous.

"Alright, how do I look?" She'd left her hair down, letting it sit in curls. Her dress was a dark wine color—almost the same shade as the roses Matt gave her—fell just below her knees, and showed just enough cleavage. Her earrings were silver that dangled just a bit, and a silver chain sat around her throat with a pendant of silver and onyx.

"If you looked any better, Matt wouldn't be able to make it through dinner," Lia promised her, as Cheryl came through the door.

"Are you ready yet? Matt's getting fidgety, and the guys are starting to tease him about it." Emily nodded, and followed them out, back toward her cubicle, where the guys were waiting with Matt, who looked yummy in a black suit, with a dark, almost shiny gray shirt. Of course, Frank and Duff couldn't resist whistling at Emily, and earned a glare from Matt.

"Easy man, you don't have to tell us the lady is taken." Frank was laughing as he held his hands up defensively. Matt rolled his eyes, and turned back to Emily.

"We all set?" She grabbed her purse and nodded. He took her hand, and they exchanged good nights with their friends. Emily laughed and had to comment.

"Why does it feel like you all got us ready for the prom?" They walked out with their friends giggling behind them.

* * *

They'd decided to take a walk around the city after dinner, at least the nice, safest part of the city. It had warmed a bit since the morning, but was still on the chilly side, so Matt had draped his jacket over Emily's shoulders. She was wearing the necklace he'd given her: a small silver and sapphire heart on a delicate silver chain. The sapphire was a deep, vibrant blue. It didn't really go with her dress, but she wanted to wear it anyway. Her other necklace was in the box for the new one.

Matt wouldn't get his gift tonight. Emily had negotiated the weekend off with Cheryl, and that was part of it. She couldn't exactly give it to him in public, because it involved some naughty lingerie and much naughtier behavior. She'd flashed him a garter under the table at dinner, just for a taste. Matt was very, very excited for the weekend.

Matt was in a good place in his life, he knew that, and knew a lot of that had to be attributed to Emily. He was happy with her in a way he hadn't really been with any other girlfriends. He felt comfortable telling her he loved her, and did it because he wanted to, not because she expected to hear it. It took him a while to get her to trust him, and he didn't take that lightly. Usually, he was the one in the relationship with trust issues, so he respected her need to go slow.

He hadn't grown bored with her; often enough, she still left him guessing. Like her gift tonight, he hadn't expected her to have planned a kinky weekend, even getting them off the on call list. He wondered what she told Cheryl, but figured their friend was smart enough not to ask. Emily wasn't clingy, which any guy will tell you, the importance of it can't be underestimated. She didn't get insecure often, and when she did, it was very endearing, like the first time she told him she loved him.

Emily was his equal in so many ways, and he knew that's a big part of why it worked so well with them. She didn't need to be fawned over, taken care of, or have her hand held. Of course, that didn't mean Matt wouldn't take a bullet to protect her, but she didn't need to know that unless that situation presented itself. And, she understood that as a man, he couldn't help himself if he tried to protect her. It was ingrained into his DNA, even if it did annoy her.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and pulled her close to him. Emily leaned her head on his shoulder, and wrapped and arm around his waist. They had made a few strategic turns in their walk, and were only a few blocks from the car now, and out of the commercial district, so there were fewer people on the streets. They were laughing at something when the man appeared out of nowhere.

"Stop. Give me your wallets, purse and jewelry," he instructed aiming a black forty-four at them. He was tall, over six feet, with a lot of muscle to back it up. He wore baggy jeans, and a dark hooded sweatshirt; tattoos were visible on his neck and knuckles.

They stood still in shock for a few seconds too long.

"Damn it now!" He yelled, waving the gun at them.

"Alright, alright. Relax man, we're getting it." Matt held up his hands, trying to speak soothingly to the guy. Neither of them were armed, they were going to have to give him what he wanted.

"Your necklace, give it to me!" He yelled at Emily, who moved quickly to do what he asked. She'd just gotten the beautiful necklace, but she wouldn't risk their lives over it. She dropped it in her purse and handed the little bag to him. He grabbed it roughly.

"Now you, wallet. Come on!" He shouted to Matt.

Matt turned to Emily, who was still wearing his jacket, and reached for his wallet, and got his badge instead. But, their mugger had seen it, and it scared him. Every street thug knows messing with cops was a good way to get yourself killed.

He came at them, now holding the barrel of the gun, the butt of the massive weapon aimed at them. He didn't want to kill them so much as he wanted to knock them out, so they couldn't come after him. Besides, he was just a kid, and actually killing with a gun was much different than threatening with one.

Matt barely pushed Emily out of the way, before the gun came crashing down on his head. She stumbled on her heels and fell. The guy didn't let up, but hit him again and again, in only a matter of seconds. Matt fell to his knees just as Emily was picking herself off the ground.

The gunman kicked Matt in the gut, and sent him falling completely to the ground. He kicked him in the gut couple more times before aiming again for his head. A force slammed against him, and intervened.

"Matt! No! No! Stop!" Emily was shouting, as she threw all her body wait into the armed man. Instead of falling he slammed the gun against her head, leaving her stumbling for a minute. He went back to Matt, kicking his head only twice, before Emily got her bearings back enough to throw herself against him again.

She was half on his back, the skirt of her dress riding up, and making it difficult for her to fight him. He forced the gun into her skull again, sending stars in front of her eyes, and pushing her to the ground, now weakened again. He kicked her in the gut several times, ignoring her cries, and yanked Matt's wallet from the jacket she still wore. Then he ran off quickly, leaving them to die on the street.

* * *

_Obviously, there's more coming. I started this one months ago, and decided to post it, hoping more would come to me. Thanks for reading, and please review!_


	2. Chapter 2

Emily didn't really lose consciousness, but her vision swam and darkened. She pulled herself into sitting position, one hand holding her head, the other wrapped around her sore ribs. The hand holding her head came away with blood. She ignored it, and turned to look at Matt, who was laying on the ground, eyes closed, unconscious. She crawled over to him, and lifted him into her lap. He was bleeding worse, there was already a spot on the road. She settled him in her lap, his blood smearing on her arms, as she maneuvered him. She settled his head in her lap, tears stinging her eyes, as she stroked his head. He was still alive, still breathing.

With shaking hands, and a dizzy head, Emily finished in the jacket pockets for his phone. She pulled it out, trying to straighten her eyes out as she looked at it. She felt dizzy and her vision kept going in and out. She aimed for nine, but her hands felt shaky, and she didn't know what she got. Oh well, she aimed for the one, her vision kept swimming, she wasn't sure what she was pressing.

"Matt? Shouldn't you be at dinner?" Cheryl's laughing voice answered. Emily could hear Frank and Duff in the background, they were probably at Sloan's.

"Cheryl?" Emily's voice came out slurred, and unsure.

"Emily? Are you drunk?"

"No. I thought I called 9-1-1." She felt so dizzy, but Matt was bleeding all over her lap, she had to get help.

"What? Why do you need 9-1-1?" The voices behind Cheryl seemed to have grown quiet.

"We—we were mugged. Matt's hurt, concussion, bleeding. I have concussion, broken ribs." She listed it as best she could, but it was an effort to make words. She was guessing on their injuries, truth be told her head and ribs didn't hurt…yet. They would when her head was clear and the adrenaline receded.

"Okay, Emily, where are you?" She could here Cheryl cover the phone, and instruct Frank to call 9-1-1.

"Mmm…near the car, I think."

"Where'd you park the car?" Cheryl's voice was tense and urgent now.

"Lot on Elm." Emily was losing her battle against the darkness threatening to engulf her.

"And 53rd?"

Emily nodded, not realizing that Cheryl couldn't see it.

"Emily?!"

"Yeaahhh…53rd."

"Okay, Frank is on the phone with 911, and we're all piling into two cars, we'll find you. I'm going to stay on the phone with you until we do."

"Mmmmhhmmm…"

"Emily? Emily?"

"I'm here." But her head felt so heavy, and it kept drooping forward, whether she wanted it to or not. And, she couldn't pick it up, and her vision was very dark.

Cheryl continued talking at her, and demanding responses for the next ten minutes, as Frank flew through LA with his lights and sirens flaring. Duff and Lia made it to the parking lot first, and radioed that the couple wasn't there, but their car was. They agreed to cruise the nearby streets looking for them.

Frank and Cheryl saw two figures off to the side of the street on 55th, and radioed Lia and Duff, as Frank slid to a stop. They heard the ambulance sirens getting closer, and Frank called the dispatcher back to tell her where they were located.

Cheryl ran up to the figures in the street. Emily was sitting up, but swaying terribly, her head falling forward to her chest. She cradled Matt's upper body in her lap. His blood was smeared on her arms and running down her legs, her own blood ran down the side of her face. Cheryl felt sick, and choked down her nausea with some effort.

"Oh shit, shit," she mumbled rushing to her friends, and sliding to the ground next to Emily.

"Emily?" Cheryl touched her shoulder gently. The other woman groaned, but didn't pick her head up. Cheryl gently lifted it, and looked into Emily's eyes. Her pupils were huge, barely any hazel was visible around the black. She heard another car slide in behind them, as Lia and Duff arrived, two doors slamming shut, feet thumping against the pavement as they rushed over.

"Oh…Oh, oh god. Oh god…" Lia stumbled as she got a close look at her friends.

"Jesus, oh shit. Cheryl, he's not…is he?" Duff gasped at the scene. Cheryl was half behind Emily now, letting her injured friend lean against her.

"No, he's breathing. Just unconscious….Frank what's out ETA on that bus?"

"On it's way Cheryl, real soon." She nodded, and they settled in to wait. Only seconds passed before Cheryl felt Emily slump against her.

"Oh fuck! No, no, no, come on Emily." She slapped at the redhead's cheeks, but it was too late, she'd already slipped into unconsciousness. It was a miracle she'd held out as long as she did.

* * *

Four very nervous FBI employees were pacing around in the ER waiting room. Actually, only two were really pacing, Duff was sitting with his arms wrapped around Lia, who couldn't seem to get the images of their injured friends out of her head. But, Frank and Cheryl were pacing enough for four people, and Cheryl was making some of the other people nervous. She had blood from Emily's head on her shirt, and some of Matt's soaked from the road into her pants. The rest were able to escape getting bled on.

"Agent Carerra?" A nurse tapped her gently on the shoulder, stopping her immediately.

"Yes? You have news?" Her intensity startled the young nurse.

"Uh no, I just thought. Um, would you like some scrubs to change into? I think the police might want your clothing." She pointed to the bloody spots.

"Oh, sure. Of course." She began to follow the nurse through the ER doors.

"Do you have any open wounds, Agent Carerra?" She asked as she led Cheryl to a curtained off exam room.

"What? No. It's not my blood."

"I know that. I was concerned about the transfer of blood-borne pathogens. We always ask nowadays."

"What, are you nuts? Matt and Emily don't have any diseases." The thought of protective gear near the blood hadn't even crossed Cheryl's mind. The only thing on her mind right then was that she might lose two of her closest friends, and best negotiators she knew to a mugging gone horribly wrong.

"Would they tell you if they did?" The nurse gave her a stern look. She knew people didn't share everything with their friends.

"Maybe not, but the federal insurance company would report it if two of my agents had AIDS or hepatitis." Cheryl gave the nurse an equally stern look.

"Fine then, I'll let you change. Leave the clothes when you're done, I'll make sure they make it to the police." The nurse left her to change, and Cheryl finally looked at the blood on her clothing.

A spot the size of a fist sat on the left side of her collar bone, stark against her lavender shirt. Another spot, bigger than the other one was smeared on the calf of her right pants leg. The blood-covered road had stamped her lightly, and then smeared it as she moved. She discarded the clothing, with blood from both her friends, and changed quickly into the purplish-red scrubs. As instructed, she left the clothing, and retreated back to the ER waiting room.

Only a couple patrol cops had arrived so far, and Cheryl had told them they weren't giving any statements until detectives arrived. She was still the boss, she had to be, it was the only thing that was going to distract her right then. And, she felt compelled to protect her people, at least the ones she could. They shouldn't have to give statements a hundred times, the damn detectives would hear the story when they got here.

She fell into the seat beside Lia, and squeezed the tech's hand. It was going to be a very long night, when it should have been anything but what it was. She remembered Emily's comment about getting ready for the prom, and smiled. She'd been right, though it wasn't intentional that they were all there seeing the couple off. They'd all been at the negotiation, and planned on going to Sloan's together afterward. The Lia went to check on Emily, and the guys couldn't resist busting on Matt, and in the end it did kind of feel like they were sending their friends off to the prom.

"Excuse me everyone. Detectives Fenton and Parks, we're looking for four FBI agents!" A large black man flashed his badge, and yelled in the loud waiting room. Four members of the LA CNU hopped out of their seats, and walked up to the cops.

"SAC Cheryl Carerra, Crisis Negotiation Unit. These is Special Agents Frank Rogers, HRT Commander, Duff Gonzalez, his second in command, and Lia Mather, Lead Intelligence Analyst." Cheryl introduced them all, and they stood, not quite at attention, too worried and tired to bother.

"Mike Fenton, Carson Parks, and two more detectives are on their way. We're with Major Case. We understand two of your agents were mugged?" The details weren't just fuzzy, they were absent. All they'd heard on the radio was that two feds were brought in with concussions and broken ribs. The detectives led the way toward the cafeteria, pretty much the only available spot to sit and get statements.

"Special Agents Matt Flannery and Emily Lehman, with my unit, and our good friends. We don't know much of the details, we got there after it happened."

"How is it you got there at all?"

"Emily was pretty out of it after the attack, she was slurring her words, and barely conscious, so she messed up dialing 911, and got me on Matt's speed dial. I stayed on the line with her, and had Frank dial 911. We drove over, and got there before the ambulance." They made it to the cafeteria, and Fenton took Cheryl, while Parks to Frank, to separate tables. They instructed Lia and Duff to hang around until they were ready for them.

* * *

"Uh, Ms. Mathers is it?" A very confused-looking doctor asked Lia. She was the only one in the ER waiting room at the moment. Cheryl was conferring with the army of LAPD that was involved in the case, and her own superior who'd shown up to throw his weight around. And, Frank and Duff were off getting coffee and some air. It was close to two o'clock in the morning now, and they'd hear no word on their friends.

"Yes, oh please tell me you have news," Lia begged holding her hands over her mouth.

"Good news on Ms. Lehman. Her concussion isn't mild, but it isn't severe either. We stopped the bleeding, and there's no swelling or bleeding around her brain. We wrapped her ribs, and will be monitoring her closely for internal bleeding on that front. Several are broken, but they'll heal. We expect her to wake up and make a full recovery, but you should know head injuries are highly unpredictable." He stopped to make sure she grasped everything.

"Oh thank god. And, Matt?"

"I spoke with Mr. Flannery's doctor, and the news isn't as good, I'm afraid. His concussion is very severe, and they've been in surgery trying to stop the bleeding inside the skull. I understand he's got a few broken ribs also, but there's some good news there. The breaks are minor, and they don't foresee any internal bleeding issues. I'll send Dr. Maguire to you when she's finished with Mr. Flannery." The doctor watched Lia nod, before marching off to another patient.

Lia was battling back tears by the time Duff and Frank returned, and Duff ran over to her, worried seeing the water in her eyes.

"Lia babe, what's wrong?" He wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"The doctor just came by, Emily should be alright, but he said Matt's concussion is really severe, he's bleeding inside his head."

Frank and Duff exchanged a troubled look, and the younger man wrapped his girlfriend tightly in his arms.

Cheryl stopped short when she saw the group, her eyes going right to Frank's, reading him easily. She swallowed and walked to them, sitting in one of row of plastic chairs Lia had been in. The rest followed her lead, all knowing they'd be at the hospital for quite some time.

* * *

_Thank you all for reading, and thanks very much for all the reviews everyone!_


	3. Chapter 3

Matt blinked his eyes rapidly, struggling to get used to the bright light leeking in from the window. The damn nurses always opened the damn curtains, so he was practically friggin blinded everytime he woke up. As if their constant in and out, poking, proding, and examing wasn't enough, they had to screw with the window. He shook his head, trying not to be crabby, but knowing it was a battle he usually lost with himself.

He'd been in the hospital for just over a month, and the stay wasn't getting any more pleasant. Bad food, embrassing gown that showed his ass to the world, and constant stream of condesending doctors uttering hopeful platitudes. Obviously, it wasn't alright, and it didn't seem to be getting any better, so enough with the cheesy smiles and comforting lies. Because, truthfully, he knew that's all they were, lies to make him feel better, feel less hopeless. Too bad they didn't work.

He never told them as much though, not while there was still hope in Emily's eyes. He couldn't sit there with her nervously petting his hand, smiling everytime the doctor gave them an inch. Or a fraction of an inch. As long as she still believed he'd get better, he couldn't be the one to tell her he wasn't going to. So, he played along: smiling and nodding, thanking the doctor for the "good news", and behaving like the ideal patient. Even if they had to writing everything just to communicate.

He finally consented to opening his eyes all the way, and found the woman of his thoughts sitting toward the end of the bed. She was facing away from him, talking quietly on her cell phone. At least, he assumed it was quietly. She could have been screaming for all he knew. It wouldn't have made a damn bit of difference to him. Since that little punk bashed his brains in, Matt couldn't hear a damn thing. He couldn't talk either, couldn't remember how to really.

He knew the words, he could read them and write them, but he didn't know how to say them. He didn't know the shapes his mouth was supposed to make when he said beautiful, and he didn't know where his tongue was supposed to be as the word slid across it. He could read it in a book, write it on a page, hell he could type it out, but he couldn't tell his girlfriend that she was beautiful. He just couldn't say the words.

The first week and a half he was in the hospital, Matt was dead to the world. Unconscious. Then he woke and couldn't hear or speak. That terrifed him. Watching people's mouths move, unable to hear what was coming out of them. Hearing nothing but utter silence, and the terrified, racing thoughts in his own head. It was unnerving. The world wasn't mean to be this quiet; sometimes, it kind of gave him the erie feeling that he was the last man on Earth.

Six days ago his they stopped the bleeding inside his skull for the last time. For weeks, he'd bleed into his skull, they'd fix it, he'd bleed again, they'd fix it again and so on. Every couple of days he'd be back in surgery. Six days was a good record, but he was still mute and deaf. The speech and auditory sections of his brain were still swollen, still damaged was their best guess. Matt's best guess?

He was fucked.

Then she turned, saw him awake, and smiled at him. Quite possibly the only thing keeping him from sinking into depression, into anger, was Emily. He would wake up grumpy with the sun nearly blinding him, and then he'd see her, and he just wasn't as angry. Her mouth moved a little more, and then she closed her phone, and walked over to him. Leaning over she pressed her mouth to his, maybe a little too passionately for his sensative state. Not that he would tell her so. Nope, those good morning kisses kept him sane.

She moved a little stiffly into the chair beside him, her ribs still sore and tender from the beating she took. The same punk that scrambled his brains gave her a mild concusion, and broke both their ribs: two of his, six of hers. His breaks weren't bad at all, and pretty much healed, but the guy had gotten a little over eager with Emily. It still hurt for her to move much.

She picked up the small dry-erase board and black marker from beside the bed. He knew the marker was making funny squeaking noises as she wrote, but he couldn't hear them. She held the board out for him to read.

_How was your night? Did you sleep?_

He took the board from her, carefully erased her message, and wrote his own.

_Alright. You?_

Emily took the board, erased it and wrote one word.

_Lonely._

Matt's turn with the board.

_Me too. Stay over tonight? _

_I don't think the nurses would let me._

_Screw them._

_Matt..._

They continued on like that for almost an hour. Their writing arms got tired, and the conversation suffered from the need for short sentences. When Matt's hand slipped and he accidently erased half of what he'd written, he got angry and tossed both objects onto his lap, hands in the air. He let out a frustrated awkward yell, because even yelling carried the shape of speech.

Emily gently took the board and marker back, and made a few more marks on it, before turning it around and handing it to him.

Matt read the three little symbols, and imeadiately his anger softened.

She had written an I, a heart, and a U, as if they were in junior high. He waved her over, into his arms, and he held her tightly, pulling her up on the bed with him.

Rest was the best medicine his ass.

He was holding the best medicine the world had to offer snuggly in his arms.

* * *

"How is he today?" Emily had barely gotten in the CNU when Cheryl appeared, brow furrowed in worry.

"He's frustrated, angry and tired, but he's trying to be positive. At least, in front of me he is." Emily shrugged, he was handling it better than she probably would.

"His doctor say anything new?"

"I didn't see him while I was there, but nothing's changed." Matt still couldn't hear her or talk to her.

"He can still get better, Emily." Cheryl had spent a month chanting that mantra to herself, regarding both of them.

Emily had been in and out of consciousness for a few days, and Matt didn't wake up for over a week. She still dreamt about that night, with them both bleeding on the road, wondering if they'd make it out alive. She'd take deaf and mute Matt to no Matt at all. He could learn to live without, and be happy. That was better than dead.

"I know. Even if he can't, I'm not going anywhere."

"Yeah, I figured as much...how are you feeling?"

"Sore, but otherwise I'm fine." Emily had spent the better part of the month assuring her four close friends that she was fine, that she was alive.

The morning after it happened, all the newspapers and TV news shows had carried the same few grainy cellphone photos. Emily covered in blood, Matt in her lap, gently stroking his bloody head. Emily again with Matt in her lap, barely conscious talking to Cheryl on the phone. Cheryl kneeling beside them, blood-covered and unconscious Emily leaning against her, Matt still in her lap, and the other three standing nearby still looking horrified.

The amatuer photographer that sold the photos, and never bothered to go for help through any of it, got a hardy toungue lashing from both the LAPD and Bureau higher-ups. Cheryl had been furious, aching to have a little time alone with the guy. Wisely, no one gave it to her. Too risky.

"I've got a little good news," Frank said, meeting the two women by Cheryl's office, where they'd stopped.

"Oh?" Cheryl was rightly sceptical.

"A buddy of mine in the LAPD just called, they found and tracked one of your necklaces back to a pawn shop."

"Which one?" Emily's eyes lit up.

"The onyx, sorry. College kid bought it for his girlfriend. Seller gave a fake name, but they have him on a security camera."

"That is good news." Emily smiled, but the light had already left her eyes. She'd been hoping it was the blue sapphire Matt had given her that night. His gift to her to mark the year they spent together.

"Once we find this guy, well get it back. Don't worry."

"Thanks, Frank." She excused herself to go sit down at her desk.

Though she was healing, and there was no permanent damage to her brain, she wasn't quite up to what she used to be. She got tired easily, disoriented occasionally, and headaches now and again. Her doctor said it was normal, and that it would get better. Of course, her ribs still hurt, but they were getting better too. Still, she was stuck on desk duty until she could move without cringing, and stopped having to glance at her notes to remember what she was telling her class.

It was kind of pathetic, but part of her didn't even care. All she'd been begging for since she woke up was that Matt would too, that he wouldn't be a die or become a vegetable. He was alive and brain-damaged in away that his personality was still there, that he was still there. She'd take that. Emily didn't know how much more she could ask for without seeming greedy or ungrateful, so she wouldn't. Maybe it was part of her year-mark paranoia, but Emily just wouldn't test it. As long as she could look into those brown eyes and see him looking back at her, she was going to be thankful that she could do that.

* * *

Cheryl walked quietly into Matt's room on her lunch break, careful in case he wasn't awake. If he was getting rest, she wanted him to keep getting it. Then she saw Frank sitting by the bed, and knew Matt wouldn't be getting any rest with the HRT commander there.

"Hey, look who's here. Check it out." Frank grinned, turning the dry-erase board around so Cheryl could read it. It still had the last message Emily left, the I love you message.

Cheryl smiled and looked at Matt, who shot an unfriendly look at Frank and grabbed the board back.

"Are you teasing him?"

"Yep, gotta do something to keep him looking alive." Matt saw him chuckling, and reminded himself that he still knew one good way to communicate.

He flicked his middle finger out, pointed squarely at Frank.

"See, he's got no trouble communicating," Frank grinned.

"Nice, Frank." Cheryl turned to Matt, who handed her the board.

_Tell him he's a dick._

Cheryl raised an eyebrow, and turned the board so Frank could read it. Frank took it with a grin, so he could write his own message.

_Oh come on, it's cute, Lehman leaving you 6th grade love notes._

He was rewarded with another finger gesture from Matt, and Cheryl rolling her eyes.

Frank scribbled again. _Seriously, how're you doing?_

_Bored, Aggravated, Angry._

_So...you're good then?_

_Peachy._

_You need anything?_

_Like?_

_Edible food? New books? Playboy? _

Cheryl snatched the board then. _You want to give him porn while he's in the hospital?_

Matt took it from her._ If I could do that in the hospital, I wouldn't use porn._

Cheryl's eyes widened._ Matt!_

_I forgot you two weren't shy. _Frank giggled.

_So do you actually need or want anything?_ Cheryl was still giving him a disapproving look.

_Emily's always bringing stuff, so I'm good._

Frank went to take the board to respond, but his phone went off, so Cheryl grabbed it instead. She passed it back and forth with Matt for a little while, until Frank got off the phone, and motioned to her for it. He wrote three words, as big as he could fit them on the board.

_They got him._

* * *

_Big thank you to my reviewers, and thanks everyone for reading!_


	4. Chapter 4

"So that's it? You're just releasing him?" Emily asked the doctor, gnawing nervously on her bottom lip.

"We've done what we can, he just needs time to heal," the doctor tried to placate her.

Matt hadn't had any bleeding for almost four weeks, and the swelling was receding. They had no reason to keep him. Either he'd heal, and regain his abilities to hear and speak, or he wouldn't. There wasn't anymore they could do for him, so they were letting him go home. He'd continue as an outpatient, with regular exams to make sure the swelling continued going down, and he got better, not worse. But now it was time for Matt and his friends to get him back into his life, and get used to the idea that he may never be the man he was again.

"Is there anything we can do to help him heal?"

"Only what you've been doing. Be patient with him, be supportive, and help him when he can't do it himself, even if he refuses to ask. He'll get frustrated with himself and his situation, maybe even depressed, he needs to know that no one blames him or thinks less of him. Don't be afraid to go to a psychiatrist if you think he needs it. That's all I can tell you, I'm afraid."

Emily had moved most of her clothing and other necessities over to Matt's house once she'd gotten out of the hospital. She knew he'd eventually be released, and she'd wanted to be there for him when he was. It came sooner than she expected, and she couldn't help but feel like the doctors were just giving up, and sending him home. She wanted him to be able to hear again, and she wanted to hear his voice as more than a grunt.

Emily followed the doctor back into Matt's room, where Matt was very happily signing the papers to leave. It was no secret how much he loathed hospitals, and even in the condition he was in, he'd rather be mute and deaf at home than in the damned hospital. He handed the clipboard and signed forms to the nurse, and turned to Emily, holding up the whiteboard.

_Can we get out of here now?_

Emily looked at the doctor, who finished a few notations on Matt's chart, and nodded his approval. After almost two months, Matt was finally free to leave the hospital. Part of him was actually a little nervous. Would it be weird to be home, and not be able to hear anything, to say anything? Would it feel like they were resigning themselves too much to his current condition?

He couldn't think about being permanently deaf and mute, because when he did, he began to panic.

Instead, he smiled and took his girlfriend's hand, lacing their fingers together, and walked with her into the evening air. Matt smelled the air and took in the darkening sky. There was one thing to be said for losing his hearing; his other senses were a little better. He noticed more when he looked at things, and he actually paid attention to smells.

Emily smelled like dove soap, coconut (her shampoo), and the lilies she kept in her apartment, though now he supposed she was keeping them in his. She always liked to have fresh flowers in her apartment, and lilies were her favorite, because of all the colors and varieties. He bought them for her often. That combination of scents always calmed him, because Emily calmed him, grounded him almost. When she was beside him, things felt more manageable. So, he let her calming presence wash over him on the car-ride to his apartment, and felt better somehow.

She was wearing his anniversary present, the sapphire heart on a silver chain. It was a little fancy for everyday, but since they'd gotten it back a week ago, she'd been slipping it around her neck every morning. LAPD had found it after interrogating Joseph Michael Henderson for several long hours. Joey Henderson, the twenty year-old that nearly beat them both to death, sold the necklace to a pawnshop in Oakland, who sold it to a guy looking for a birthday gift for his girlfriend.

Tomorrow they'd spend the day with the US attorney, for last minute prep, and then testifying in front of a federal grand jury. They were federal agents, that meant their attacker landed himself a federal charge. Jed, the prosecutor wanted Matt, Emily, Cheryl, and Frank at least to testify at the grand jury, he was debating on Duff and Lia. They were at the scene, but they didn't talk to Emily or call 911. Six people seemed overkill for a grand jury.

It was going to be a production for Matt to testify. He would be reading the questions and typing out his responses using a computer. The questions and answers also had to be verbalized, so a stenographer could get them down, as well as projected on a large screen that way the jury knew there was no tampering. Jed had fought with the defense attorney so Matt was allowed to testify, and the judge assigned to the case agreed to let him, but only with the provisions. It was only fair, seeing as how the defendant put Matt in his current state.

After they finished there, Emily had signed them up for a sign language class. Matt wasn't too thrilled with the idea, never really a good student, and feeling like the class was another step to accepting he'd be like he was forever. He knew she was right though, it couldn't hurt, and at least he'd be able to communicate with her, without needing a pen and paper. Now, he just settled for holding her right hand as she navigated through traffic with her left.

* * *

A few hours later, they were gathered with their four closest friends in Matt's living room. It was an awkward conversation at first, as they struggled to talk, and keep Matt in the loop.

"I got a date with that cute nurse." Frank spoke as he scribbled on the board and passed it to Matt.

_The brunette with the glasses? _Matt scribbled quickly, trying not to slow the conversation down.

"Yep." He wrote, and showed it to Matt, before handing the board to Cheryl, who wanted to write something.

"Since when do you date the geek type?" Cheryl asked, disbelief on her face and in her tone. She made sure Matt read the board before passing it to Frank.

"Since my two best buddies seem to be so into smart chicks, figured I'd give it a shot." He grinned, passing the board over to Matt.

Lia shot Frank a look, and Emily tossed a pillow at him, the whole group giggling. Matt didn't hear and of the giggling, but he saw the smiles.

They tried talking for a while longer, but discovered that it was impossible to keep up a conversation while they had to pass the board around. Not to be defeated, Emily drove to a nearby convenience store and raided them of every dry erase board they had. Then they were all scribbling and erasing, and speaking at the same time, because it was natural to them. Matt felt like a pain in the ass, but was nonetheless happy to be included in the conversation.

Making him even happier was that he could sit on an actual couch, not a bed, with his arm wrapped around his girlfriend, and not worry that a nurse was going to come in an scold them. They usually didn't get to cozy in front of their friends, but their cuddling had been so restricted the last couple months, they didn't care at that moment. Yes, Matt was enjoying being free from the hospital. Then he yawned, and everyone was suddenly on high alert.

_We should all get going, you're tired, you need rest. _Cheryl wrote.

_I'm fine, I did nothing but sleep in the hospital._

_No man, she's right. You just got out, you need to take it easy, especially since you have court tomorrow. _Frank insisted, giving him a look.

_Yes, mom._

* * *

Jed Nicholson paced anxiously in the hall outside the Grand Jury room, waiting for his colleague to finish a case she'd started presenting yesterday.

The grand jury process was pretty simple, almost like a mini one-sided trial. There was no cross examination from defense counsel, only direct from the prosecutor. If the grand jury thought he had enough evidence, they'd declare a True Bill, grant an indictment, and pass the case forward for trial. He'd go out soon and start with a summary of the case and introduction of the charges: two counts aggravated assault, two counts attempted murder. Then he'd put Matt on the stand, followed by Emily, but at the rate things were going, she'd have to wait until tomorrow.

He stepped inside to check on his witnesses, who seemed alright. A little fidgety maybe, but he wasn't worried. He'd scored the witness jackpot with this case, all decorated federal agents. And the victims? Enormously sympathetic. All too often victims and witnesses were not much better characters than the defendants, but this was one of those rare, easy cases he could try in his sleep.

They'd done nothing to spur the attack, which was brutal to say the least, and it left one of them unable to hear or speak. Not to mention that through their jobs, they'd saved who knows how many lives. Not to mention the graphic, heart-wrenching photos that made it into the media. The only negative mark on the victims was that they were colleagues, partners, and sleeping together. Though, even that was easily washed away by the fact that on the night of their attack, they'd been celebrating their anniversary--obviously, they were a faithful, committed couple. At least, that's what he saw, and what he was hoping the Jury would see.

Two hours later, he was patiently questioning Matt about the last night he spoke, the last night he'd heard the sounds of the world.

"And Matt, what happened after you lost consciousness?" As he asked it, the question appeared on the computer in front of Matt, who typed his answer.

_I don't really know, I stayed unconscious for ten days._

"What did you discover that day you finally woke up?"

_I couldn't hear anything, and I don't know how to speak anymore. _

"Is it permanent?" These questions were so practiced, he didn't even really need to look at his legal pad.

Matt shifted uncomfortably. _The doctors don't know, it might be._

Jed let his face show sympathy, like many of the juror's faces would be. "Please tell us, Matt, how does this and will this effect your life?"

_Professionally, I'm a crisis negotiator, I need to talk for work. If this is permanent, there's no job the Bureau can give a deaf mute. I love my job. I've been a cop in one form or another for fifteen years, I don't really know anything else. I never really wanted to._

_Personally, I can't talk to anyone without using paper or a dry erase board. It takes longer to write everything out, and no one wants to write out paragraphs, so there isn't much to conversations. I'm getting used to reading lips, and that's not so bad, but if I never hear again, I can never learn to talk again. Everyone I know is going to have to learn sign language to talk to me, that's a lot to ask of people._

_It's so quiet all the time, and it's not like I don't remember hearing or talking. I remember the sounds of the city, of the ocean, of my friends voices, their laughter. I know what everything is supposed to sound like, I just can't hear it anymore. Sometimes, the silence seems so overwhelming, I feel like I'll go mad. _

_The worst thing though, I haven't heard my girlfriend's voice since that night. I can still hear her in my head, but it gets harder as the days pass. You don't realize how important the voices of the people you love are to you, until you can't hear them anymore. I miss her voice. I watch her, see her mouth move, but I can't hear her. I want to hear her so much, I need to hear her so badly, but I just can't._

Matt poured his frustrations out on the computer screen, and when he finally stopped frantically typing, the room of people still had their eyes glued to the screen. Jed let his words sink in for several quiet minutes, before resuming his questioning.

Oh yeah, once Joey Henderson's attorney got the transcripts from the Grand Jury he'd be begging for plea agreement.

* * *

"Matt says no peppers!" Frank shouted to Emily, as her boyfriend waved around a board with his proclamation against peppered-pizza written on it.

"I already know that!" She shouted back. Of course, she knew what Matt wouldn't tolerate on his pizza, they'd ordered pizza enough.

"Says he's just reminding you!" Frank called, playing messenger and translator for Matt, who was almost slumped in the big arm-chair, looking positively beat.

Duff and Lia were parked on the loveseat, Frank was on the couch, the same place Cheryl had been sitting before she went into the kitchen with Emily to order pizza. They'd retreated to Matt's apartment after court, all needing something to take their minds of it, and hoping to keep Matt from depressing over his condition. It had gone well today, but Matt was tired, and Emily was practically like a nervous mother around him. It wasn't that she tried to hard to take care of him, she just worried so much that he'd get worse, not better.

"We got a Margarita and one pepperoni and sausage," Emily announced, returning with Cheryl. Cheryl went and sat back beside Frank, while Emily followed Matt's motioning hand. As soon as she got close enough to grab, Matt grabbed her, and yanked her into his lap, earning a startled shriek.

"Oh come one man, don't do anything too cutesy," Duff wrote and whined. Lia gave him a look that was more playful than the hostile she'd intended it to be.

"No free seats anyway," Emily shrugged, grinning, and borrowing Matt's board to tell him what she'd said.

He smiled back at her, and tugged her a little closer to him. Emily relaxed against him, and Matt let his arms stay loose around her. Matt was still not quite used to the fact that he could touch his girlfriend whenever and however the hell felt like. His was enjoying his new freedom too much not to take every opportunity to experience it. Unless Emily exhibited discomfort at affection in front of their friends, he was damn well going to hold her in his arms.

She didn't actually get uncomfortable, but after twenty minutes, the time came to get the pizza, so Emily had to move. Matt teasingly tried to hold her back with him, but she just smiled at him, patient expression on her face, and he let her go. Frank watched with an amused sort of expression, clearly entertained by them. Matt shrugged and picked up the board to tell his friend something. As he was holding the white board, marker poised over it, about to make the first stroke, everything went suddenly dark.

It wasn't the darkness of the power going out, where he'd have the streetlights outside to give him enough light to see shapes. It was his owns eyes betraying him, taking away another of his senses. Suddenly, someone touched him, and Matt jumped away so hard, he fell off the chair, scrambling away. It was a friend, it had to be, but that didn't stop the panic in his head, or the pounding beat resonating through every vein in his body.

Frank stared at his scared friend, at loss of what to do. Cheryl, Lia, and Duff were beside him, equally as horrified at confused. Cheryl tried to reach out to Matt, but when she got close enough to touch, he scrambled back again. Frank did the only thing he could think to do.

"Emily!" He hollered to the bedroom, where she was searching for her keys. If she couldn't help Matt, then he didn't know what to do. She came in, still searching through her purse, looking mildly irritated at the disruption of her search. Then she saw Matt on the floor, almost curled into himself, raw fear on his face. She half-dropped, half-threw her purse, and ran over, pulse racing in her throat.

"What happened?!"

"I don't know, he just got this look on his face all of the sudden, and when I tried to touch him, he jumped and ran away." Frank shook his head hopelessly. He wished he could tell her, but he didn't know.

Matt felt someone else approach him, but they didn't immediately touch him. No matter who it was, it was a friend, he tried to tell himself, but it didn't stop the panic inside him. He couldn't see, couldn't hear the person in front of him, and it left him feeling too vulnerable. Then he smelled lilies, which didn't necessarily mean anything, because Emily had a vase of orange tiger lilies in the living room. It helped calm him a little though, enough so that other scents came to him.

Coconut and Dove soap. Emily.

Matt reached his hand out, and when it made contact with hers, he held on and pulled her tight against him. He held her tightly in his arms, face buried in her neck, inhaling that unique mingling of scents that was the woman he loved. He couldn't speak or hear, and now he couldn't see either, but with Emily so close, his panic began to slowly recede.

* * *

_Okay, I have an issue with my arm now, and typing gets a little painful, so I'm not sure when the next chapter will be up (this was done except for proofreading). That being said, thanks for reading, and thanks tjmack and slplady for reviewing!_


	5. Chapter 5

Emily sat beside Matt's hospital bed, holding his hand between both of hers. The only time she'd stopped touching him was during the MRI, because she wasn't allowed. Otherwise, Matt panicked without her close. If she was there, that meant whatever the doctors and nurses were doing was okay, she wouldn't let them doing anything that wasn't. He could still smell her, but barely, the antiseptic smell was so overwhelmingly strong in the hospital.

The ER doctor and Matt's neurologist had examined him thoroughly, and studied the MRI and EEG results. So far as they could see nothing had changed in his condition, or rather, the scan looked about the same. Same with his brain waves. The fact that Matt couldn't communicate anymore...so far as they could tell, there was no direct cause. They were still waiting on the blood test results, but offered the same party-line they'd been giving for almost two months.

Brain injuries are complicated, hard to diagnose, harder still to treat, and nearly impossible to predict. Anything can go wrong or right until it's healed completely, and it looked for Matt, like it was just going wrong. Barring the blood tests, they'd keep him a few days to make sure he didn't get any worse. That was it, the best they could do for him.

Emily begged them, near tears, to tell her something else. Tell her about some experimental treatment to help him, to at least bring one of his senses back. Because, right now, he couldn't really communicate with them, and that was what scared the hell out of her.

All he could do was scribble barely legible notes onto a white board, and wait for a response they really had no way to give. Squeezing his hand, rubbing his shoulder, his back, kissing his cheek, that was the best she could do. She couldn't reach him in his private nightmare-world of darkness and silence.

"Emily, I'm sorry, but his blood tests showed nothing abnormal. We'll keep him a couple days in case he gets worse, but that's really all we can do. I know a very good communication specialist in New York, I'll give her a call, she should be able to help your situation." He explained softly. He stood awkwardly, watching Emily nod, and walked out to see his next patient.

She turned to see her friends exchange worried looks, and Matt remain still, oblivious to the news his doctor just dropped. She fell into her seat, taking Matt's hand back into both of hers. She just sat there staring at him, not a clue about what to do.

"Alright Emily, we better get going, the nurses will be here soon to shoo us out. Are you staying tonight?" Cheryl came up next to hear, speaking much more calmly than she felt.

"The only way their getting me out of here tonight is in a body bag. I won't leave him alone." If the nurses wanted her out, they'd have to kill her and drag her out, because nothing less would work.

"I figured. Alright, I'll call Jed and let him know he'll have to reschedule you."

"Don't. If Lia can sit with him while I'm there, I want to go. I want the grand jury to know what happened." She looked at Lia as she spoke, eyes moving from sad and confused to angry, an easier emotion to handle.

"I'll be here in the morning," Lia confirmed, her hand clasped tightly in Duff's where it had been since they left for the hospital.

After they left Emily was left to sit with Matt, and wonder if she was ever going to be able to talk to him again. How was she supposed to tell him what the doctor said? That their friends went home for the night? That she'd have to leave for a while tomorrow?

How was she supposed to tell him that she loved him?

The only answer in her head was that she wasn't, but Emily couldn't accept that. People need human contact to keep them alive, to keep them sane. Matt needed more than just her touch to keep from losing himself in the dark, silent prison his brain constructed for him. No, he needed his eyes or ears, but if she couldn't give him them back, she'd find a way without them.

As if sensing her internal struggle, Matt squeezed her hand, and then brought to his lips in a kiss. He shifted on the bed to give her room to slide on, needing badly to be close to her, and not caring if the nurses bitched. He spooned around her body, wrapping one arm tight against her abdomen, and allowing his head to rest in the spot between her neck and shoulders. He inhaled the scent of her skin, and twitched as her curls brushed his face. He couldn't hear her or see her, but he could still smell her, and still feel her.

He tried to tell himself that would be enough, not just for himself, but for her too. He didn't suppose he actually had a choice. If his brain didn't heal whatever was wrong, and give him his senses back, it would have to be enough. But Emily had a choice. She could walk away whenever she wanted to. Matt tried to imagine what it would be like to live life as he was, unable to hear, unable to see.

It was terrifying.

He would be practically helpless. As it was, he was afraid to let go of his girlfriend's hand, because without her beside him, he felt naked. People could come and go from the room, and he wouldn't know. A bomb could go off under his bed, and he wouldn't know until he showed up in the afterlife. The only person he recognized by scent was Emily, and because he knew it was her, he felt safer beside her. The thought of being this way, so helpless, so naked and scared for the rest of his life, sent panic racing through him. And, the panic brought tears.

Emily must have felt them, because she rolled over to face him, concern weighing in her eyes. She rested a hand on his cheek, and brushed a tear away gently with her thumb. After studying him silently for a long moment, Emily shimmied away a little, picking up his hand. She held his hand in the space above her breasts, before moving it to rest over her heart. She let him feel the strong, strong muscle beating inside her chest, and then moved his hand to his own chest.

Matt got her message clearly, and nodded, kissing her fingers. In lieu of actually picking up the white board, and scribbling 'I love you too', he settled for pulling her close, and crying quietly into her neck.

* * *

"So Emily, you're pretty healed now, right?" Jed smiled softly at her, trying to keep her at ease. She just gotten through the events of the night, he only needed her to hold it together a little while longer.

She came in late this morning, looking tired and tense. By then, he already knew what had happened yesterday evening, and was glad she wasn't the one to tell him. Jed couldn't hide the horror on his face when Cheryl called.

"Yes, I'm fine." Emily wanted to be here testifying, telling them what happened to Matt, but she wanted to be with him too. She coached herself silently to be calm and patient.

"That's good to hear. Now, I understand last night was a difficult night for Matt, can you tell us a little about that?"

"He's blind," Emily paused, swallowing a lump in her throat. "The doctors don't know what caused it, just that he's apparently getting worse, not better."

Her eyes fell toward her lap, and her teeth attacked her lip. Jed gave her a minute to add anything she needed to, and was about to press on, when she picked her head back up.

"He couldn't speak or hear, and now he can't even see. It's like he's dying piece by piece, and I can't help him. All I can do is hold his hand, and wait until he's completely gone."

* * *

Meanwhile, Lia had brought playdough with her, hoping to give Matt something to do besides lay in bed all day. Once he'd figured out what she put in his hand, he gave her a creative expression, even without the use of his eyes, and scribbled a message to her. Though he couldn't see the letters on the board, he saw them in his mind, and slowly and carefully, he wrote neat enough to read.

_You better be kidding._

Lia responded by throwing a little piece of red playdough at him. She kept the stuff around for when her niece and nephew came over; her brother's little demons needed to be constantly entertained.

Lia tried to craft a cat, but as the kids had pointed out, Aunt Lia wasn't very good with playdough. Matt instead made letters, spelling out the worlds 'Not a kid'. Lia followed by spelling out 'Better idea?', and they began a sort of awkward sort of-conversation. It was slow, and trying at times. Matt had to use his hands to try and read what she wrote with the soft clay, and sometimes it wasn't that easy. But, it gave them something to do, and Matt a way to communicate, however flawed.

When Emily slid quietly into the room, he picked up the whiteboard and scrawled out a message. Matt's handwriting was never great, and blind it was worse, but just legible enough to make out.

_Look, I'm five again. _

Emily smiled and walked over to them, and was surprised when Matt reached out tentatively in the air. How did he even know someone was in the room? Still, she laid her hand in his, and nearly fell over as he pulled her close, and planted a kiss on her lips. When he let her go, she leaned back from him, blinking her eyes. Now, how did he know it was her?

He couldn't speak, hear, or see, but damn it, he could still kiss his girlfriend, and Matt was going to keep on doing it until he was no longer physically able.

Emily picked up his arm, and as they done that morning, she traced a word over his forearm, giving him time to make-out and string together the letters. He sat with blank, deadened eyes after she drew, and when he'd gotten the word, he picked up the whiteboard.

_How? _She'd asked. How had he known who he was kissing?

_Soap, Coconut, and Lilies. Your skin always smells that way. _

"He could smell that from that distance?" Lia asked incredulously.

"I guess it must be from the deprivation of his other senses, what's left becomes stronger." Emily was staring at him, clearly impressed though.

_Lia is raspberries and men's aftershave. Too much time with Duff. _Matt teased her.

Emily laughed, and Lia look scandalized.

"My bodywash is raspberry-scented."

"And, the aftershave scent?" Emily grinned at her.

"Good girls don't kiss and tell." Lia offered a conspiratory grin, but not a word. Maybe they'd have girltalk later, but even though he couldn't hear or see, there was still a guy in the room. Girl talk doesn't work with boys nearby.

"Hello Mr. Flannery," a young candy-stripper greeted, a tray in her arms.

"He can't hear you," Emily told the girl.

"What?" The girl seemed confused, apparently no one briefed her on the patients she'd be helping with.

"He's deaf."

"Oh, well I have his dinner for him." She didn't seem to know what to do.

"You can take it to someone else, a couple of his friends are bringing him dinner." Frank and Duff were meeting them with burgers and fries, which she knew would make Matt very happy.

"He's supposed to eat his dinner though."

"He's blind too, and that's a meal that requires a fork and maybe a knife. He needs something easier to manage." Emily was getting impatient with the girl. If they were going to offer him food, shouldn't they know better than to give him a turkey dinner?

"Oh, right. Okay." She finally turned toward the doors, still looking terribly confused.

_I smell food. _Matt held up the white board

Emily picked up his arm again, turning up the more sensative side of his forearm, and traced her finger across it. Matt visibly twitched now and again, her delicate fingers tickling him, and it brought a small grin to Emily's face.

For Matt it was almost erotic to feel her fingers gently move over his skin. It made it a little hard to concentrate on the actual letters she was writing, though she didn't seem to realize it.

_Guys w/ burgers soon._

It was a lot for him to get, and she stopped now and again to allow him to grasp each word. He'd nod when he made sense of it, and she would draw the next sequence. He even kept his eyes close, as if it would matter, concentrating with everything he had in him. Midway through Lia excused herself to call the guys, and well give her friends a little privacy.

Matt sensed that she was gone as Emily was drawing burgers, and asked with the white board. Her scent had dissipated considerably, and his extra-sharp nose picked it up. Emily was happy for that, at least he had some sense of people, that would make her more comfortable leaving him alone. Though she wouldn't be comfortable doing that for a while.

_Yum. _He wrote after she finished.

Emily smiled and squeezed his hand because he couldn't see it.

_Promise me something? _Matt scribbled out.

_Anything. _Emily brushed her finger softly against his skin. She hated seeing him like that so much, she would gladly give him anything he asked for.

_I'm might get worse. _He scribbled.

_So?_

_What if they can't fix it?_

_We'll cope._ She did not like where he was going.

_If I can't smell anything? I won't know who's near me._

_We'll cope. _

_What if I can't move?_ He wrote more firmly, trying to make his point to her. It went without saying if he deteriorated that far, he really would have no way to tell anyone anything.

Emily didn't move. Her heart was pounding, and her stomach was twisted in a painful knot. She had a hunch what he was going to ask her to promise, but she didn't want to hear it. She didn't want to go there.

_I don't want to live like that._

Again, Emily didn't speak, just continued to hold his hand as her heart pounded in her ears.

_Promise me that if I get worse, if I can't do it myself, if I can't tell you what I want. Promise me that you'll end it for me._

Emily's breath shuddered, and her grip on his arm tightened, but that was the only indication she gave that his words bothered her.

She did not want to make that promise, just the thought of honoring it made her stomach churn violently. But she would make it nonetheless, and if it came to it, she would force herself to do it. She would force herself to kill him.

If he got any worse, it wouldn't be living. If he lost the ability to move, or the ability to smell, it could become more humane to end his life, than keep him suffering. It had to reach a certain level of misery, a misery he wouldn't heal from, but she'd do it. She knew if their positions were reversed, she'd ask him to do the same. She wouldn't want to live that way either. She loved him, and he loved and trusted her; it was her responsibility to take care of him, no matter what that meant.

Matt brought his other hand up to her, nudging her out of her own mind, and reminding her that he needed an answer.

Emily picked up his hand in her shaking one, and rested in on her heart. Then she moves his hand, palm down on top of her other one. With his hand cupping hers, she drew an x over her heart. She felt the tension drain from his body, as relief rushed in. He wouldn't have to suffer; she make sure of that for him.

He kissed her and held her close a few seconds, before Lia returned with two HRT agents, and dinner. Emily squeezed Matt's hand, and excused herself to the bathroom.

It was smallish for a public restroom, only four bathroom stalls, and three sinks with a giant mirror stretched across. It was also painted snot green, a really vile yellow-green. Emily leaned with her hands on either side of the last sink, furthest from the door. Head down she breathed in and out for several minutes. Without any warning, she turned abruptly and fled to the nearest bathroom stall. Heaving painfully, she deposited her last meal in the porcelain bowl, tears already forming in her eyes.

When there was nothing left for her stomach to send back out to the world, Emily slid down the stall wall, hands clutching her sore abdomen. Knots continued tightening painfully in her gut, and tears dripped down her cheeks.

* * *

_Sorry for the delay in getting this up, it's been a rough couple of weeks. I'm anticipating about two more chapters for this story. Thanks for reading, and please review!_


	6. Chapter 6

Five days after his sight went, Matt was sent home again. Nothing had gotten worse, and nothing had gotten better. The Communication Therapist from New York gave his doctor the number for one in LA, and that doctor, one Gary Nebala, was eager to help. Matt was an interesting case for him, and had a lot more to work from than many of his patients. He had thirty-five years of living, hearing and seeing, and that experience would help him communicate signifcantly.

He'd been home for a week, and spent that time studying brail, signs for the deaf-blind, and improving his handwriting. Emily was on leave, so she stayed with him, learning as he did. It was difficult and frustrating for them both, but what were they going to do?

The handwriting was the easiest part for Matt, he'd been writing for three decades, it was just a matter of concentrating and making it neat. Trying to write in a straight line when you can't see the line was more of a challenge then he expected, but it was a piece of cake compared to everything else. Brail, the signs, it was learning a whole new language, a new system of communication, and learning it with very little ability to communicate in other ways. More than once he'd thrown a book across the room, or let out a formless groan-growl.

Emily didn't really need to learn brail, but she wanted to be able to understand what he was going through. And, the shrink in her knew that having someone to go through everything with him, would help Matt through it. The signs she was especially interested in, because that would give them a way to talk to each other without the use of a dry erase board and marker. She'd also be the one teaching their friends the signs, so they could communicate with him.

Though, what Emily really needed to learn to do was leave him without supervision. She'd been leaving him alone with the Gary for short periods throughout the week, but was still nervous about it. At the moment, she was getting ready to leave him completely alone for a few hours. Gary left already, so for the first time since he lost his sight, Matt was going to truly be alone.

She didn't want to treat him like a child, didn't want to smother him, but god, she was so worried. Emily was not used to feeling so over-protective of anyone, but with everything that had happened lately, she was feeling terribly insecure. She knew he could take care of himself, that being alone would be good for him, and that's why she was doing it. But that didn't stop her from worrying.

Still, coaching herself to relax, Emily pulled Matt close, and pressed her lips to his. Matt responded hungrily, slipping his tongue in her mouth, and sliding a hand up her shirt. Emily moaned into his mouth, and he felt the tiniest little vibrations from it. It caused him to pull back in suprise; he never would have felt that if he'd had all his senses.

Emily used that opportunity to collect herself. Anytime she wondered how they lost control, and had sex in places like the office, all she needed to do was kiss him, and she had her answer. Now, she squeezed his hand to let him know she was going, and walked out his apartment door.

They'd talked about it earlier, so Matt knew that squeeze meant he'd be alone very soon. He was nervous, grateful, but still very nervous. Swallowing down his unease, he made his way over to the stereo, and put on the headphones his therapist had let him borrow. The headphones emitted vibrations, so the deaf could listen to music, or rather feel it.

Grabbing the remote, he sat back in the big arm chair that was the pride of his living room. Fortunately, he remembered where the buttons were, and found play easily, a little suprised when the 'sounds' came out. He'd listened a little before, when Gary showed him how to use it, but now Matt listened to a full song.

Metalica. He could tell he was listening to Metalica. One of his CDs, definately not Emily's.

* * *

"So, how is he?" Cheryl asked after Emily came into her office, and sat down without a word.

"Good, still Matt."

"That's good news. How's it going with the brail and signs?"

"He's frustrated, I'm frustrated, but we're both making progress. We were just starting on sign language before this happened, and that was hard enough to figure out. Now, we're drawing on each other's hands, and trying to figure out little patterns of dots on paper. I know I'm having an easier time than he is though," Emily said.

"It will get better. Just think about how much better it's gotten in less than two weeks," Cheryl told her. It was the same thing she'd been telling herself all week; it was hard to imagine Matt never being a negotiator again.

Emily nodded, and went quiet for a short while.

"Do you have anything for me to do? I'll go crazy if I don't keep busy."

Cheryl smiled. "I gave your class to Binder, and he looked less than thrilled. Why don't you go suprise him?"

"Why is it none of the guys want to teach?"

Cheryl just shrugged, who the hell knew why all her male negotiators cringed at the idea of teaching. Matt included. Sure, he liked to sneak into to Emily's class and watch, and he didn't mind helping her out, but he never wanted his own class.

"Cheryl?" Emily suddenly asked.

"Yes?"

"What if he doesn't get his eyes and ears back? If he can't be a negotiator anymore, what is he supposed to do?"

"Collect disability and enjoy early retirement?" She tried to make light of it, but she'd worried about the same thing.

"You and I both know that won't work for him. He'll get bored, and then he'll get miserable. He loves being a negotiator, Cheryl, as much as us."

"I know. If this had happened a year ago, I would have been afraid he'd never get through it. It's still going to be hard for him, but Emily, I do believe that he will get through it. Negotiating isn't the only thing he loves now, and as long as he still has one thing he loves, he'll make it through." Cheryl spoke softly, and very honestly to her friend.

Emily nodded, but didn't actually say anything. Loving her couldn't get him through a lifetime, he needed something more.

"I know that that probably puts a lot of pressure on you, but you haven't left yet."

"No, I couldn't do that. If I left I'd miss him too much, and hate myself for being a coward," Emily said. It felt like a huge commitment in her head, and that scared her, but with Matt, she'd gotten used to coaching herself. The next step isn't that scary, she'd tell herself, and then it really wouldn't be that scary. Often enough, it felt pretty good.

"Besides, he can always think of this as a chance to do all that stuff he always wanted to do, but never got the chance to."

"He always wanted to learn how to play the guitar, he had lessons for a few months when he was a kid, before his mom died. But, he's deaf, that might be hard."

"When was the last time you were at a rock concert, Emily? Hook it up to an amplifier, he'll feel the vibrations. It's not as good as hearing it, but it could still work for him."

"Yeah, maybe. It's just...not fair. We were just walking, and we were going to give him what he wanted. He didn't have to hit Matt," Emily's voice cracked, and she let her head rest in her hands.

She was trying, really trying to keep it together for Matt, but it wasn't easy. They'd been a happy, healthy couple less than three months ago, and now it felt like everything was a struggle.

* * *

Matt tossed the opera CD back in the case, and shoved the case into a dark corner of his CD stand. Emily's aunt had sent her the CD as a gift, and she'd brought it over to tease him. It had worked very well. He remembered her giggling hysterically at the horrified expression on his face, just at the thought that she'd ask him to listen to opera. The CD never made it back to her apartment; of course, she didn't really want it back.

He put a new CD in the stereo, and adjusted the special earphones on his head, waiting for the vibrations to start. He felt like a kid on Christmas; this was as close to hearing as he gotten since the accident. And, being blind he was never quite sure what he was putting on (hence the opera), so it was a suprise. It took him a minute before he recognized the pulsing hum in his head as the Eagles.

He couldn't feel the lyrics, but he could feel the sound of the songs. He recognized his favorite ones pretty easily, and let the lyrics seep from his memory to the front of his mind. He hadn't had so much fun just listening to music since he was in high school. Growing up, Matt had dreamed of being in a rock band, like so many boys.

He and his buddies would sing along loudly to their favorites bands, and play air guitar, air drums, and even air keyboard. There was even a year or two in there that a couple of them had the hair to back it up, though Matt was never one. According to his old man, real men did not have long hair. He wasn't about to let one of his sons run around looking like a woman.

Matt was so involved in his music that he didn't notice Emily coming home. Not by scent, and not by pure instinct telling him he wasn't alone. Even if he had, he wouldn't have be able to see her smile, a smile he put on her face.

Matt was smiling, looking geniunely happy letting the feel of the music wash over him. It did Emily a world of good to see him happy, to see that even how he was, he could still be happy. It was a weight off her shoulders to watch him sit there in his favorite chair, relaxed and enjoying life. It gave her an idea.

Minutes later she walked over to him after preparing herself in the bedroom, and gave him a minute to recognize her scent before placing a kiss on his cheek. He shut off the music and reached out for her hand, pulling her close for a proper kiss--one with two sets of lips and tongues.

Emily broke it off after a few seconds, and pulled him up off the chair, leading the way to the bedroom. She sat him on the bed, and stood in front of him, bringing his hands up to rest on the outside of her upper thighs.

At first, Matt was suprised, but more confused by what he found there. It felt like straps, and his mind wasn't making the connections it obviously needed. All he could think was bondage, and they'd never been into that. He let his hands travel up slowly, until he found her panties, and the lacy garter belt attached to those straps. His breath came in quick and sharp, and he turned is head up toward her, even though he couldn't see her.

Emily raised his arms up, and grabbed the bottom of his t-shirt, pulling the fabric off his body and over his head. Hand on his chest, she gently applied enough pressure to get him flat on his back, and allowed him to inch his way toward the head of the bed. Once he'd gotten himself comfortable, Emily straddled his waist, and rested a hand on his chest. She could feel his heart beating wildly beneath her hand, and it excited her.

Slowly, softly, she began to trace letters over his chest. Over the last week, it had become an intimate gesture for them, something that was all theirs. They hadn't had sex since before their anniversary night, with Matt in his current state, they'd both been too nervous. The gentle teasing of her fingers on his chest, and his on her back had been enough for them. Tonight Emily wanted to change that.

_Never gave you your present._

Matt's mind flashed to a small table in a nice restaurant, a rose in a white vase, and a small candle glowing happily in the center. Two desert dishes, and delicate cups of coffee. Emily grinning conspiratorily, shifting closer to him, her back to the restaurant. Utilizing the slit in her dress, she flicked it up just long enough to reveal to him a lacy light turquoise and black garter wrapped around her thigh.

Another sharp intake of breath and his heartbeat quickened. He'd actually forgotten her promised anniversary gift--a kinky weekend spent in bed. That certainly explained why she was wearing lingere and stradling him, not that he really needed an answer to enjoy it.

Curious what she'd decorated her top half with, Matt wrapped a hand around each hip. He rubbed his hands along her hips, feeling the smooth fabric and rough lace. His fingers brushed against her soft skin, and Matt knew she was wearing a thong. He slid his hands over the curve of her ass, up her back, before bringing them around her slim waist, sheer fabric brushing the backs of his hands.

So warm, so soft, and her heart beating in every vein under his fingertips. Matt had never been so aware of how her skin felt beneath his fingers, never really stopped to wonder at the feel of her in his hands. Now, he was enraptured with that very sensation.

He allowed his hands to travel up, feeling Emily arch her back under his touch. He continued until he hit the bra-like top, and the little clasp in the front. It came undone quick, and he let the top hang open, while he laid his hands on her breasts.

He inhaled sharply, enjoying this increased sensativity to touch, and how it made everything feel new and fascinating. He always thought her body was beautiful, but now he didn't want to stop touching her. Her body arched deep against him, her groin pressing against his, and Matt's breath shuddered. God, even that felt more intense, felt wonderful.

Emily took the moment to lean toward him, laying the length of her naked chest against his. Matt gasped. She kissed him while he was still breathing heavy, releasing his mouth only to move to his neck, and to his earlobes.

It was almost sensory overload. Matt's hands gripped the sheets, his chest heaved, and his legs stretched out tense down to his toes. When she got to his nipples, his heart began pounding so fast, he wondered if she might actually kill him with her touch. It would certainly bring new meaning to loving someone to death.

Emily was enjoying herself, happy to make put his surviving senses to work. Maybe excersizing them thoroughly would keep them from shutting down, or maybe she was just worried that she may not get many more chances to make love to him. Either way, she was going to make it something neither would ever forget. She just had to get his jeans off, which turned out not be too hard, since he was still gripping the bed sheet with white knuckles.

When she touched him through his boxer-briefs, his body jerked off the bed, spine curved up toward her. Emily couldn't help but smile as she gently wrapped her hand around him, and he began gasping so fast she was afraid he'd hyperventilate. Instead he released a low, long moan. She let him go, meeting his lips again, allowing him a moment to gather himself.

But then Matt's idea of gathering himself was catching his breath, wrapping his arms around her, and rolling them over. He might have been a little nervous starting off, but Emily had fixed that, and now it was his turn to play. He kissed his way from her breasts to her abdomen, relishing the taste of her and feel of her on his tongue. With his lips still pressed to her skin, he gently slid the thong over her hips and thighs, and down her legs. Emily shuffled it down the rest of the way, and kicked it across the room.

Matt chose that moment to touch her between her legs. If his ears had been working, he'd have heard her gasp. She was still wearing the garter belt and pantyhose, but now Matt had access, and he'd didn't waste time. He didn't need to hear her as he entered her, and went in and out; her body arched up to meet his, and she dug her fingers into his back.

Their breathing and rhythm increased in tandem, and Matt struggled to restrain himself until he brought Emily closer. He felt her breath hot and rapid against his neck, felt her body convulsing around him, and knew she was close. Just when he was letting himself go, the world seemed to explode around him. Light burst in front of his eyes, and sounds came in a rush to his ears, as he came inside her. He collapsed against her, breathing heavily.

It felt like he was stuck in a two-hundred watt light bulb, with trains passing on either side of him. Shaking with fear, cowering in confusion, he buried his face against her neck.

_

* * *

__One more chapter coming and then this one is done! Thanks for reading and the reviews!_


	7. Chapter 7

Emily laid still, allowing her heart to slow down, and her labored breathing to ease. Matt was laying half on top of her, his face oddly buried in her shoulder. She raised that arm, curling it around his head, and let her fingers tangle in his soft, messy hair. But his heartbeat wasn't slowing down, and his breathing was still as ragged as it had been at climax. Emily tried to remain calm, to wait patiently, and not overreact.

Something was wrong.

She shook his shoulder, and moved her other hand from his hair to his back, rubbing it softly. He raised his hand, and felt around for hers, giving it a squeezed when he found it. Not quite satisfied with his response, she slowly drew letters on his arm.

_R U OK?_

"Um fine," Matt slurred. His head flew up at his own words, but he quickly ducked again as the light hit his sensitive eyes.

Emily flew up with him, staring in wonder, afraid to believe that he'd actually spoken. She'd seen him duck from the light, and unsure what it meant, she began rubbing his back again. His face was buried under the pillow behind her now, and one hand fished around for hers until it he found it.

"Matt?" Emily asked in a quiet, unsure voice.

"Yeah?" He grunted, barely distinguishable from underneath the pillow.

Emily's hand flew over her mouth, and tears pricked her eyes. Just like that, he could hear, see, and speak again, even if it was a little garbled. But the sudden light was searing his unaccustomed eyes, which meant his ears were probably overly-sensitive as well. Emily drew up the sheet and comforter, and laying back down beside Matt, pulled the bedding over their heads, creating a dark, quiet cocoon.

"It's okay, Matt. The light's gone," she spoke just above a whisper.

He slowly pulled his head out from the pillow, and faced her voice. It was so dark under the sheets all he could make out was her form lying beside his, but that was good, his eyes were much happier.

"You can hear, and see, and speak...it all just happened?"

"Uh huh...talk not so good." His words came out sort of strained, as if it was difficult to find them and form them.

"Oh my god." Emily reached out and brushed her hands over his face, holding it between her palms. She placed a gentle kiss to his lips, and brought her face back to just look into his eyes. Eyes that had life in them for the first time in nearly two weeks.

"Missed your face, your voice." Matt took her hands in his, and brought them to his mouth, kissing them.

"I missed your voice too...we need to take you to the doctor so he can look at you."

"Tomorrow."

"We should go tonight, Matt. He'll want to know."

"May not last long. I want to be with you while it does," Matt said. He'd managed a phrase and a whole sentence, as he spoke, his speech was improving. Definitely a good thing.

"You'll be with me, I won't leave your side," Emily insisted. She was afraid to be too excited, she wanted the doctor to look at him, and say he was cured, that it would last forever.

"Not the same. I want to lay here, look at your face, and memorize it," he stopped briefly to swallow and think. "I want to listen to you talk to me, and memorize your voice." He stopped again, struggled a moment, and continued. "I may only have a little while to make memories to last a lifetime."

She stared at him a long while, tears shining off the whites of her eyes. Then she nodded, and kissed him, savoring the taste and feel of his soft lips pressing into hers.

They began to talk, slowly, a little awkwardly at first, but then it changed. As they felt like themselves again, the conversation became fast and eager, almost excited. They're conversation had been restrained the last few months, and now they were able to talk without writing anything on white board, or carefully drawing on skin. It was freeing.

After a while the comforter came off, so Matt's eyes could adjust to a greater volume of light, and the couple could get a little air. There was enough light under that sheet that he could begin to make out her features, and by the time they tossed off the sheet, it was night. The moonlight and streetlights combined to generate a comfortable level of light for Matt. He was able to take in the beauty of his nude girlfriend by that soft, bluish light.

They laid naked together talking, and flirting well into the night, happier than they'd been in months. Emily fell asleep just before four a.m., but Matt stayed awake, just watching her sleep.

He was genuinely afraid that if he went to sleep, if he closed his eyes on the world, when he woke-up, it would be gone. That would be it. He would be back to not seeing, hearing, or speaking. So tonight, he was going to stay awake as long as possible, and enjoy the best part of that world. Just after seven, Matt finally gave in, wrapped his body around hers, and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

"Whoa, that's going to traumatize," Frank cracked, covering his eyes. He, Cheryl, Duff, and Lia had taken a break from work to join Matt and Emily at the hospital after the latter of the pair had called them.

They'd walked into the room Matt's neurologist had put him in for the exam, and found him sitting on the exam bed, like a good patient. Except instead of actually being a good patient, Emily sat beside him, facing him, their lips joined in a kiss that was maybe a little to hot for their current setting.

"You'll get over it," Emily said sarcastically, pulling away from Matt.

"I don't know, I see a lot of therapy down the road," he teased.

"Well, then make sure the Bureau pays for it." Matt's voice managed to stun his friends into silence. They knew what Emily said, that he was better, but still, it was a shock.

"Jesus, stop looking at me like that," Matt asked uncomfortably. "I feel like I just laughed at my own funeral."

"Sorry Matt, it's just...you're really okay. We were all afraid you'd never talk again." Cheryl went to the side opposite Emily, and squeezed his hand.

"Yeah, me too," he said.

"So, what did the doc say? This isn't temporary, right?" Frank studied his friend, seriously.

"He's studying the MRI now. EKG looks normal though."

"So everything just came back, just like that?" Duff wondered, perplexed.

"Yeah, just kind of hit me. Talking was a little hard at first, and the light killed my eyes, but it got better."

"Oh, please tell me you were slurring like a drunk man, and Emily recorded it," Frank laughed.

"No, I wasn't slurring. Was I?" Matt looked over at Emily.

"No, it was more like difficulty stringing words together, getting your mouth around them. It didn't last long though." Emily spoke to their friends, but still held one of Matt's hands in both of her own.

"Knock, knock," the doctor entered smiling at his patient, and crowd of friends. "I had a chance to look at your MRI Matt, and the swelling is completely gone now. I can't promise you that this is permanent, but I feel confident enough to say that I believe it is."

Matt's shoulders slumped just the teeniest bit, relief easing away the tension he hadn't even realized was there.

"Now, I'm not sure if this will be diagnostically relevant, but I'm still curious, for something to suggest to future patients, what were you doing when everything came back?" He'd love to see if whatever he'd been doing might work for future patients; if it did it could make a fascinating article for a medical journal.

Matt swallowed and went completely still, while Emily bit her lip and looked at her lap. Both the doctor, and their longtime friends noticed the change.

"Why are you both suddenly quiet?" Lia asked before anyone else got up the nerve.

"Because, we were...we were uh, having sex when everything came back," Matt confessed. Emily's head shot up and she gave him a look. Matt just shrugged, what else were they supposed to say?

"Oh...well, it was certainly a happy moment then...I'll go get your release forms." The doctor scurried out, looking distinctly uncomfortable. It might come off as inappropriate if he suggested that to future patients.

Six very quiet FBI employees sat in awkward silence for no less then ten minutes. Then Duff couldn't stand it anymore, he had to say what he was thinking, so he blurted it out, and not very tactfully.

"That must have been one hell of a roll in the sack."

Lia lightly smacked his chest, and gave him a stern look.

"What?" He held up his hands. "They hit the sheets once, and suddenly he's cured. That's like, like, like faith healing with sex!"

Lia rolled her eyes at him, and Frank began to chuckle. Matt and Emily tried to sink into the ground.

"Lehman's a faith healer..." Frank trailed off giggling, while Emily colored a bright pink.

"Somehow, I don't think the church would approve of her methods," Cheryl commented, arching an eyebrow at the embarrassed couple.

"I say we shoot Flannery in the leg, and test this theory, see if she can heal him," Frank suggested, still laughing to himself.

"Very funny, but I'd rather not," Matt frowned at him.

"Alright, alright, time to lay off them," Cheryl ended the jokes, feeling a little bad for her friends. "Let's just be happy Matt's better now, regardless of how it happened."

She tried not to smile at the thought, but it was just too funny. Duff and Frank were trying and failing to stop laughing, and Lia was struggling not to be amused. Matt and Emily exchanged a look, and Matt took on a self-deprecating grin; Emily shook her head and laughed silently.

They were just relieved he was alright.

* * *

"I thought I'd never hear this sound again," Matt said quietly.

They were walking along the beach, toes digging into the coarse, wet sand, sea-scented breeze blowing over their faces and through their hair. He had an arm wrapped around Emily's shoulders, and her head resting on his shoulder, her arm around his waist. It was a little overcast, but that just meant that the sun wasn't beating down on them.

The ocean waves were rushing up fiercely, and smacking the shoreline, threatening to wash over their feet. It was coming further inland as they walked, and the first time it hit, Matt started and jumped. Emily had giggled at him, before also jumping as the cold water hit her feet. It was colder than it should have been for November, but it had been unseasonably cold for months.

Even with the cool breeze, and colder water, they were both enjoying themselves. Matt was just happy to hear the thick smack of the water as it landed on the sand, and musical rush as it returned to the sea. It was brilliant blue waves rushing toward them, and a thick white foam as it slid back for another round. It was seagulls squawking and flying around, and defunct sandcastles that the ocean washed over the previous night. It was one of Matt's favorite places, with sounds and sights he'd thought he'd only ever find again in his dreams.

"Me too...I'm so happy that it's over. I love you." She spoke without missing a beat.

"I love you too," he spoke softly, suddenly turning to face her, hands on lightly holding her hips. He moved one hand to lightly brush her face, his breath quivering in his throat.

Emily pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, unsure what was going on. He was staring at her so intensely, like he was trying to see into her soul--no more like he was giving her a chance to see into his soul.

"You didn't leave," he suddenly blurted. That hadn't been what Matt wanted to start with, but it was on the tip of his mind. Emily looked clearly startled.

"You could have left, Em. You could have said it was too much, and walked away, but you didn't. You stayed with me the whole time, no matter how hard it got. You didn't have to, I mean we aren't married or even engaged..." he faltered and trailed off, before trying again. "I don't, uh don't really know how to stay what I want here. I just...I needed you so badly, and you were there, and god knows, I still need you..."

He was rushing through his thoughts, trying to figure out what he was trying to say. Emily had seen it before, and still thought it was completely adorable. Cute as it was, she decided to silence him the same way she had the first time hyper-explanatory mode. Then he'd been talking about commanders and negotiators, the objectivity, and why they shouldn't be sleeping together.

"Thank you," he blurted when they finally broke for air. "Thank you for staying."

"If you leave when it gets hard, you don't deserve to be there when it's easy," she told him, kissing him again.

When they broke again, Matt pulled her against his body, holding her as close as possible without hurting her. He stood there holding her, watching a seagull swoop for a fish, and listening to the waves crash against the shore.

"Hey, it's getting late, you want to get something to eat?" Emily titled her head slightly, so she was speaking softly against his neck.

"Sounds good."

"What are you in the mood for?" They were still holding each other as they spoke, both reveling in the comfort of touch that they'd grown so accustomed too over the last couple weeks.

"Besides you?" Matt couldn't resist.

"How about something more...nutritional?" She suggested.

"I don't know, according to our friends, your body healed mine. That's more than broccoli or bananas ever did for me." He'd bent his head, and begun kissing her neck as he spoke.

"I think you overestimate my talents," Emily grinned.

"Maybe you underestimate yourself. I'm thinking if one time cures me of deafness and blindness, two might turn me into superman."

She stopped mid eye-roll when his warm, soft lips hit her collarbone. Not really appropriate beach behavior, but it was November, and chilly, so the place was deserted.

"So, what do you want to eat superman?" She asked with an amused smile. She pulled away, taking his hand and leading them off the beach.

"No finger food, no fries, burgers, sandwiches, wraps, pizza, pita bread things, or burritos. I want something I have to eat with fork and knife, real food." In the midst of all the learning he had to do, asking him to relearn to use a knife and fork was too much, so he'd relied on things he could eat with his hands.

"There's a nice Italian restaurant a few blocks from where we parked, how's that?"

"Perfect."

"Good, they should even have some good desserts."

"Oh, I already know what I want for dessert." He chose that moment to pull her back into his arms. Matt was in a very good mood, and a mood that good usually made him frisky.

Emily giggled, "You just behave yourself in the restaurant."

"Always..." Matt grinned, inhaling the scent of coconut, dove soap, and lilies—the scent of home.

* * *

_This story is officially over, but will be cleaning my hard drive, so major updates this week! Thank you to all the people that reviewed, and thanks for reading! _


End file.
